Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 
Columbia  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/memorialsketchofOOruss 


/ 


Memorial  Sketch 

OF 

HENRY  MARTIN  KNIGHT,  M.D. 

Late  Superintendent  of  the  School  for 
Imbeciles  at  Lakeville,  Conn. 


BY 

GURDON  W.  RUSSELL,  M.D. 


Hartford,  Conn.  : 

Press  of  The  Case,  Lockwood  &  Brain ard  Co. 

1891. 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


[Having  been  requested  by  the  Directors  of  the  School 
for  Imbeciles  to  prepare  a  Memorial  of  the  late  Dr.  Knight, 
I  have  brought  together  the  following, — giving  due  credit 
to  each  one,  — compiled  in  part  from  a  sketch  of  him  by  his 
*  brother,  remarks  made  at  his  funeral  by  his  pastor,  and  also 
extracts  from  a  newspaper  article  written  by  myself  shortly 
after  his  death.  And  there  has  been  added  to  this  such 
other  thoughts,  suggestions,  and  remembrances  as  have 
been  brought  to  my  notice  by  his  friends,  or  have  occurred 
to  me  during  this  writing.  —  G.  W.  R.,  March ,  i888.\ 

IT  seems  proper  to  commence  this  Memorial 
with  a  brief  life  history  by  his  brother : 

\  Henry  Martin  Knight  was  born  August  1 1 , 
1827,  at  Stafford,  Conn.,  and  died  at  Fernandina, 
Florida,  January  22,  1880. 

**  He  was  the  fifth  son  of  Joseph  and  Ruba 
Knight.  His  father  was  settled  as  pastor  over 
the  Congregational  Church  at  Stafford,  and 
was  known  far  and  wide  among  the  clergy  as 
Father  Knight.  During  a  long  ministry  he 


4 

suffered'  .severely  from  a  distressing  malady, 
and  often,  when  unable  to  stand,  would  preach 
while  seated  in  a  chair  in  his  own  house  to  his 
congregation  there  gathered.  This  steadfast 
adherence  to  duty,  at  any  cost,  was  transmitted 

I 

fully  to  his  son.  Amidst  the.se  influences  his 
boyhood  was  passed  in  the  healthful  atmosphere 
of  the  country  at  Stafford,  and  later  among  the 
hills  of  Granby,  and  Peru,  Massachusetts.  The 
strict  economy  of  a  country  minister’s  home, 
with  a  large  family  to  provide  for  with  a  small 
salary,  early  fostered  energy,  self-reliance,  and 
perseverance  in  the  face  of  apparently  discour¬ 
aging  circumstances.  His  education  was  ac¬ 
quired  by  his  own  efforts,  energy,  and  self-de¬ 
nial.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  entered  Willis- 
ton  Seminary,  in  East  Hampton,  Mass.,  already 
a  celebrated  institution.  His  vacations  were 
occupied  in  teaching  school ;  this  led  him  at 
one  time  to  Norfolk,  where  he  became  acquaint¬ 
ed  with  his  future  wife,  Miss  Mary  Phelps. 

v  In  1 847  he  commenced  the  study  of  medi¬ 
cine  with  Dr.  Smith  of  Mffnson,  Mass.,  and 
afterwards  studied  with  Dr.  Miner  of  South 

t' 

Braintree,  Mass.  He  graduated  at  the  Berk- 


O 


5 


shire  Medical  College,  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  in  1849; 
was  soon  after  married,  and  commenced  the 
practice  of  medicine  at  Stafford  Springs.  In 
1851  he  removed  to  Lakeville,  and  entered  into 
partnership  with  Dr.  Benjamin  Welch,  a  well- 
known  practitioner  of  that  place.  He  was  act¬ 
ively  engaged  in  his  profession  until  the  cur¬ 
rent  of  his  life-work  was  changed  in  the  di¬ 
rection  of  the  care  of  weak  and  feeble-minded 
children.  He  was  ever  ready  to  respond  to  the 
calls  of  the  suffering,  knowing  no  difference  in 
this  respect  between  rich  and  poor.  He  fairly 
earned  the  title  of  the  ‘beloved  physician.fi 
Xln  1854  he  was  elected  to  the  Legislature, 
and  was  appointed  one  of  a  committee  to  ascer¬ 
tain  the  number  of  imbecile  children  in  this 
State.  The  knowledge  acquired  while  serving 
on  this  committee,  together  with  his  previous 
study  and  observation,  inspired  him  with  the 
idea  of  founding  the  school  which  is  his  best 
monument  and  memorial.  In  1 856  he  presented 
his  plans  to  the  legislature,  and  asked  that  Con¬ 
necticut  should  establish  a  school  for  imbeciles 
similar  to  those  already  instituted  by  Massachu¬ 
setts  and  Pennsylvania.  The  measure  passed 


the  House,  but  was  defeated  in  the  Senate  by 
one  vote.  In  1858,  abandoning  the  hope  of 
State  aid  in  establishing  the  enterprise,  he  gave 
up  general  practice  and  opened  his  own  house 
for  the  reception  of  feeble-minded  patients, 
meeting  with  such  success  that  six  years  later 
he  erected  the  main  wing  of  the  present  large 
building.  Later  this  was  enlarged  by  appropri¬ 
ations  from  the  State,  which  eventually  recog¬ 
nized  the  utility  and  importance  of  the  institu¬ 
tion.  After  many  discouragements  and  rebuffs, 
which  would  have  led  most  men  to  give  up  the 
project,  public  sympathy  and  interest  were 
aroused,  and  a  law  was  enacted  giving  aid  and 
support  to  a  limited  number  of  children  —  the 
State’s  sad  and  helpless  ones  who  had  found  in 
him  a  friend  and  advocate. 

He  died  when  he  was  entering  a  period 
of  permanent  prosperity,  —  when  the  heavy 
work  of  urging,  arguing,  and  pleading  |was 
mainly  over,  and  an  assured  support  was 
secured.” 

This  brief  sketch  shows  us  in  a  graphic 
manner  how  diligent  he  was  in  obtaining  his 
education,  and  how  persevering  he  was  in  push- 


7 


ing  his  plans ;  the  very  obstacles  which,  he  met 
were  incentives  to  overcome  them.. 

I  knew  him  for  nearly  a  quaj:t*®r  of^i  century, 


and  was  somewhat  familiar '  writh  his  work. 
Commencing  in  a  moderate  way  in  his  own 
residence,  he  developed  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years  his  methods  of  instruction  and  care  of 
feeble-minded  children,  until  at  the  time  of  his 
death  he  had  under  his  supervision  somewhere 
about  one  hundred  of  them.  •  From  that  hum¬ 
ble  beginning  in  his  own  home  there  arose  the 
Connecticut  School  for  Imbeciles ;  the  contrast 
between  these  early  efforts,  which  I  first  saw  in 

r 

1858,  and  the  extended  establishment  at  the 
time  of  his  death  wras  very  great.  It  was  the 

1 

natural  outcome  and  positive  accomplishment 
of  a  man  who  was  earnest  in  his  convictions 
and  resolute  in  his  actions.  The  school  had  be¬ 
come  well  known  in  this  and  neighboring 
States ;  he  had  secured  sympathizing  and  sup¬ 
porting  friends ;  his  townsmen  admired  such 
energy,  and  were  proud  of  him ;  and  his  pro¬ 
fessional  brethren,  who  sympathized  with  him, 
and  who  always  are  sympathizers  in  such  hu¬ 
manitarian  work,  gave  him  their  cordial  encour- 


8 


/ 

agement.  •  He  bad  acquired  a  very  favorable' 
reputation  in  his  specialty. 

His  endeavors  to  enlist  the  co-operation  of 
the  State  were  not  successful  for  some  time  ; 
his  projects  were  regarded  as  too  visionary  for 
contributions  of  the  public  money.  Nothing 
could  be.  done  with  these  people,  it  was  thought, 
and  why  waste  upon  them  either  money  or 
time  which  were  better  spent  elsewhere  and  on 
other  objects.  I  met  him  on  one  occasion  just 
as  the  legislature  had  adjourned  without  grant¬ 
ing  him  aid ;  his  pleas  before  the  committees 
were  patiently  listened  to,  but  he  obtained  no 
help ;  while  a  few  wished  him  success,  the  ma¬ 
jority  was  against. him  ;  the  appropriations  were 
needed  for  other  objects.  It  was  the  old  story, 
“go  thy  way  for  this  time.”  There  is  brought 
before  me  vividly,  as  I  write  now,  many  years 
after  the  event,  the  .subdued  tone  and  sadness 
of  his  countenance  ;  he'  was  as  one  exceedingly 
fatigued  by  his  labors.  But  though  disap¬ 
pointed  he  was  not  discouraged,  and  felt  sure 

that  the  time  would  come  when  his  expectations 

•  % 

would  be  realized  and  he  should  receive  that 
public  recognition  which  hd,  deserved.  It  was 


/ 


9 

\ 

especially  noticed  (and  it  was  a  beautiful  trait 
in  his  character)  that  he  was  not  now,  nor  at 
any  time,  as  far  as  I  know,  loud  in  his  blame  of 
those  who  were  not  in  accord  with  him.  He 
recognized  fully  that  new  propositions  must  be 
examined  from  all  sides  by  many  men  of  divers 
thoughts  and  ways  of  thinking,  and  that,  after 
prolonged  discussions,  the  right  conclusion 
would  generally  be  reached  ;  and  so  he  said,  “  I 
will  be  patient,”  and  went  again  to  his  indi¬ 
vidual  work.  When  we  remember  how  many 
claims  are  made  upon  the  public  treasury  for 
schemes  which  are  visionary  or  selfish  we  may 
excuse  the  legislator  who  is  careful  in  his  scru¬ 
tiny,  and  prudent  of  public  funds.  If  a  proper 
request  is  occasionally  refused,  yet  it  too  often 
happens  that  projects  are  Successful  which 
ought  never  to  have  been  granted.  If  the 
world  is  often  ungrateful,  it  is  also  often  over- 
generous.  /  «< 

A  few  faithful  friends,  however,  rallied  about 
him,  cheered  and  ^supported  him,  and  enabled 
him  to  continue  in  his  good  work ;  he  was  not 
easily  to  be  cast  down.  He  labored  on  patiently, 
and  after  some  years  of  hard  toil,  with  discour- 


2 


agements  which  would  have  broken  down  a  less 
hopeful  man,  he  began  to  reap  his  reward.  The 
success  of  the  school  was  recognized,  and  the 
State  began  to  afford  him  some  aid  ,  in  the  sup- 

i 

port  which  it  gave  to  poor  pupils.  His  family 
was  growing  up  around  him,  aiding  and  taking  „ 

jr  ) 

an  interest  in  his  work.  As  far  as  human  eye 
could  see  he  was  receiving  the  reward  of  years 
of  labor  and  anxiety. 

.  And  when  he  was  entering  upon  the  fruition 
of  it  he  was  suddenly  taken  away ;  and  so  it  fell 
to  others  to  carry  out  his  humane  and  efficient 
plans,  and  to  labor  in  that  work  to  which  he 
consecrated  and  gave  up  his  life. 

Yes,  he  gave  up  his  life  for  this  work  in  a 
most  unselfish  manner,  —  in  a  path  generally 
considered  most  disagreeable  and  unpromising ; 
and  with  a  perseverance  which  was  wonderful, 
wrought  out  and  brought  to  an  acknowledged 
success  the  truth  that  much  could  be  accom¬ 
plished  in  the  instruction  of  mentally-feeble 
children.  *  When  we  consider  how  many  there 
are  in  this  condition,  through  no  fault  of  their 
own,  but  often  through  the  fault  of  their  par¬ 
ents, —  that  they  are  regarded  generally  with 


disfavor,  and  are  likely  to  be  ill-treated,  —  we 
may  thank  God  that  it  is  put  into  the  heart  of 
some  men  to  work  diligently  for  their  improve¬ 
ment.  The  cases  which  he  has  related  to  me 
of  his  success  in  bringing  some  from  an  entire 
neglect  of  themselves  to  a  comfortable  condition 
of  life,  were  enough  to  establish  his  skill  and 
humanity.  To  say  that  it  is  better  that  all  these 

children  should  die  young  is  to  say  that  it  is 

> 

better  that  we  should  be  relieved  of  all  pain  and 
trouble  in  an  instant  and  at  our  own  will,  with¬ 
out  regard  to  circumstances.  The  pagan  may 
destroy  all  feeble  and  deformed  children  at 
their  birth,  or  if  they  do  not  agree  with  his  own 
ideas  of  beauty ;  but  the  Christian  accepts  the 
burdens  which  are  placed  upon  him,  and  strives 
to  make  them  as  light  as  possible. 

I  never  heard  hii/]/ boastingly  or  selfishly 
exalt  himself  on  his  success  ;  but  if  he  ever  did 
cherish  the  feeling  that  he  had  done  a  good 
thing  it  was  with  a  heartfelt  thankfulness  for 
the  accomplishment  of  benefit  to  others,  rather 
than  with  any  vain  glorying  of  himself.  When 
we  see  a  man  so  conscientious  in  his  work  as  he 
was,  and  where  so  few  are  willing  to  labor,  then 


12 


I  think  we  are  bound  not  alone  to  accord  to  him 
all  honor,  but  to  hold  up  his  hands  and  give 
him  such  substantial  aid  as  the  good  and  faith¬ 
ful  servant  always  deserves.  As  his  pastor  said 
of  him,  “he  gave  himself  freely  for  others,” 
and  I  recognize  among  the  men  and  women 
whom  I  have  known,  few  who  labored  to  do 
their  duty  more  faithfully,  and  who  did  it  not 
with  an  eye  to  man  service,  but  conscientiously, 
and  in  the  sight  of  God. 

What  a  wronderfui  enthusiasm  he  possessed ! 
To  see  him  take  his  children  in  his  arms  or 
upon  his  knees,  and  talk  to  them  in  evident 
pleasure,  one  would  say,  now  this  man  is  in 
earnest ;  they  are  pleased  with  these  attentions, 
and  appreciate  that  kindness  of  heart  which  is 
so  devoted  to  them.  It  did  not  disturb  him  if, 
as  sometimes  happened,  no  immediate  recogni¬ 
tion  was  shown,  or  if  the  dull  and  listless  coun- 

* 

tenance  gave  no  indication  that  any  impression 
was  made.  But  in  all  my  acquaintance  with 
.him  he  showed  no  sighs  of  disgust,  nor  gave 
any  utterances  of  disappointment  or  peevish¬ 
ness,  if  his  advances  were  not  readily  noticed. 
And  in  that  patience  and  firm  belief  in  faithful  * 


/ 


teaching  lay  the  great  difference  between  our 
friend  and  most  of  the  world,  and  showed  how 
much  of  love  he  had  in  his  work.  His  brother 
well  says  of  him,  that  “  he  was  a  man  of  conse¬ 
crated  heart,  and  did  his  work  not  merely  as  a 
secular  business,  but  from  the  purest  and  high¬ 
est  motives ;  and  he  loved  it.  It  enlisted  his 
soul  and  whole  being  in  a  religious  senseff* 
This  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  is 
spoken  of  by  all  his  friends.  Says  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Kitchell,  in  his  funeral  address,  “The  most 
marked  features  of  his  character  and  life  were 
spiritual  and  noble,  such  as  we  delight  to  dwell 
on,  and  such  as  aid  us  in  placing  him  in  that 
higher  realm,  where  it  is  our  comfort  to  place 
him.  .  .  He  gave  his  money,  his  influ¬ 

ence,  his  time,  his  strength,  yes,  his  life  at  last, 
for  the  sake  of  his  fellows.  For  his  friends,  for 
the  unfortunate,  for  the  wretched  in  any  sort, 
he  was  ready  always  to  spend  and  be  spent. 
.  .  .  Fie  gave  himself  to  the  weak-minded 

unfortunate.  Twenty  years  he  was  a  successful 
medical  practitioner.  His  winning  address,  his 
rare  and  quick  intuitiveness,  his  ready  sympa¬ 
thy,  had  made  him  in  all  your  households  the 


14 


‘beloved  physician.’  With  these  qualities  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  any  prize  of  his  profession  lay  be¬ 
fore  him,  whether  here,  or  in  any  other  sphere 
to  which  ambition  might  have  led  him.  But 
his  heart  became  interested  in  the  needs  of  the 
imbecile,  and  gradually  he  left  everything  else 
to  alleviate  their  wretched  condition.  As  the 
result,  he  built  up  ybout  himself  as  his  life  work 
the  school  at  Lakeville,  and  in  that  work  the 

>.  .  t 

great  feature  is  a  tender  and  generous  humanity. 
We  call  it  his  life  .work  —  and  it  does  fitly  rep¬ 
resent  the  quality  of  his  soul  —  yet  how  small  a 
part  it  seems  of  what  he  was  and  did. 

“But  if  we  love  theny  who  love  us,  what 
thank  have  we?  He' loved  and  gave  himself 
for  the  wretched  and  degraded  of  every  sort, 

t 

especially  for  the  intemperate/  You  remember 
the  enthusiasm  and  the  labors  of  his  life  in  this 
direction.  ...  A  second  feature  in  his  char¬ 
acter  was,  he  gave  himself  freely  to  his  Saviour. 
He  gave  himself  to  Christ  in  the  same  whole¬ 
hearted,  decided  way  in  which  he  loved  his 

>  / 

fellows ;  he  did  not  keep  anything  back.  You 
know  how  strong  his  will  was ;  -  yet  it  was  most 
perfectly,  submitted.  I  never  saw  a  meek- 


t 


15 

spirited  woman  who  was  more  docile,  or  more 
heartily  at  one  with  the  will  and  the  work  of 
God.  His  desires  were  eager  and  strong,  yet 
he  ever  seemed  to  follow  them  entirely  and 
safely,  because  they  led  him  right,  —  because 
loving  the  Saviour  he  had  come  himself  to  de¬ 
sire  thos^  things  which  are  lovely,  pure,  and  of 
good  report. 

“  So  all  of  his  religious  exercises  partook  of 
this  heartiness.  How  childlike,  how  eager,  how 
direct,  how  tender,  how  grand- was  his  approach 
in  prayer  to  the  throne  !  How  strong  and  mas¬ 
terful  his  rich  voice  went  in  sacred  song  before 
us,  as  his  spirit  went  before  ours.  He  loved 
the  church,  —  it  was  the  body  of  Christ  to  him  ; 
he  honored  it  and  loyed  to  work  through  it  — 
for  temperance,  for  missions  at  home  or  abroad 
—  as  if  he  sought  his  own  personal  aggrandise¬ 
ment.  He  loved  the  Sunday-school ;  here  in¬ 
deed  was  his  pride  and  glory ;  here  his  love  for 
little  children  (and  he  was  a  little  child  himself 
with  them)  was  blended  with  his  love  for  his 
Saviour  into  a  great  swelling  passion. ” 

The  Rev.  Mr.-  Hallock,  on  the  same  occasion, 
said  :  “  How  often  have  the  noble  words  of  this 


faithful  servant  (pillar  in  the  church  that  he 
was,  pillar  that  he  is)  -thrilled  us  in  our  deepest 
purpose,  and  made  us  strong  for  good.  And 
what  a  monument  he  left  over  there  !  Gather- 

ing  those  little  ones  r  around  him  in  the  very 

■>/ 

spirit  of  his  Master,  fitting  them  for  their  best, 

^  t 

I  see  upon  it  theA  words,  ‘  inasmuch  as  ye  did  it 
unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  did  it  unto  me.’ 
With  quick  wit,  with  earnest  views  of  life,  with 
sound  judgment  and  keen  grasp  of  things  im- 
portant,  I  mark  Dr.  Knight  as  (in  every  thought 
and  fibre  of  his  .mind- and  heart)  ^manly  man. 
Manliness  he  always  had,  and  of  the  truest 
Christian  kind,  while  irfany  of  us  found  his 
counsel  safe,  and  his  friendship  beyond  price.” 
A  friend  who  knew  him  well  writes  me : 

r  i  > 

“  Dr.  Knight’s  well-worn  b6oks,  outside  his 
specialty,  and  all  that  -bore  upon  sacred  history 
(of  which  he  was  an  ardent  student  all  his  life) 
were  mainly  history  and  biography.  But  he 
devoured  everything  wiqLch  came  in  his  way  — 
light  literature  of  all  kinds,  poetry,  books  upon 
art,  architecture,  farming,  — all  sorts  of  things 
that  a  man  of  much  more  leisure  than  he  ever 
had,  could  be  excused  from  looking  into-. 


i7 

„  r 

f  <• 

“  In  his  conversation  his  ‘  hobbies  ’  were, 
first,  last,  and  always,  ‘  the  children,’  as  he  called 
all  the  unfortunate  who  came  under  his  care  ; 
next,  religious  subjects,  to  which  he  brought 
all  the  life,  and  warmth,  and  charm  of  which  he 
was  so  much  the  master ;  their  music,  in  which 
he  was  so  unusually  gifted,  and  to  which  he 
gave  a  devotion  that  would  have  brought  him 
fame  had  he  not  chosen  ‘  better  things  ’  for  a 

♦  j  1 

life  work.  He  was  a  zealot  in  temperance,  a 
practical  as  well  as  theoretical  farmer ;  and 
while  he  could  make  nothing,  could  direct  the 
mending  of  everything  under  the  sun. 

s  * 

“Dr.  Knight  was  not  especially  fond  of  fish- 

>  ^  \ 

ing,  or  hunting,  except  as  it  gave  some  one  else 
pleasure.  His  two  Recreations  were  music  and 
horsemanship.  Jt  would  be  impossible  to  say 
that  he  had  any  one  peculiar  line  of  thought  in 
conversation ;  ^  think,  instead,  that  the  secret 
of  his  wonderful  charm  'and  magnetism  was, 
that  he  had  the  gift  of  'being  able  to  be  wholly 
absorbed,  for  the  time/  in  the  especial  interests 
of  those  with  whom  he  was  associated. 

y  , 

“  All  who  had  the  happiness  of  knowing  Dr. 
Knight  knew  him  alike.  }  To-day  the  plainest, 
3 


i 


I 


/ 


/ 


y 


18 


most  ignoranbman  in  Lakeville  would  speak  of 
him  with  the  same-appreciation  of  all  his  noble 
qualities  that  in  equal  would,  because  in  all  that 
he  said  or  did^j&ere  was  always  present  the 
essence  of  all  tputli  and  uprightness.” 

"/His  energy  was  wonderful;  whatever  he 
undertook  he  did  with  his  whole  heart.  His 
brother  says;  “  his  mind  was  not  rapid  and 
sparkling,  but  it  was  sagacious  and  sure.”  I 
should  say  that  his  perceptions  were  so  rapid 
and  acute  that  a  subject  was  examined  and  set¬ 
tled  while  some  were  only  beginning  to  con¬ 
sider  it ;  and  his  judgment  was  so'  correct  that 
he  was  rarely  at  fault :  his  mind  had  such  a 
practical  turn  that  he  saw  right  to  the  bottom 
of  a  thing  at  once.  If  he  did  not  always  express 
his  opinions  with  rapidity  it  was  not  because  he 
had.  not  thpught  them  out.  In  conversing  with 
„  hiiL  ope  would  say,  now  this  man  has  no  non- 
;  sense  about  him.  All  that  he  did  he  did  with 
his  might,  whether  in  the  practice  of  his  pro¬ 
fession,  in  the  management  of  his  own  affairs, 

^  in  the  teaching  of  his  specialty,  in  his  efforts  in 
the  cause  of  temperance,  in  his  labors  in  tjie 
Sunday-school,  in  his  duties  in  the  church  of 


19 


which  he  was  a  deacon,  in  the  jteish  choir,  or 
in  his  aid  of  any  measure  of '  interest  in  the  vil¬ 
lage,  all  this  he  did  with  his  whole  heart ;  nor 
was  it  done  grudgingly,  or  as  if  Jrorn  necessity, 
but  with  cheerfulness  and  sincerity. 

He  was,  I  think,  a  very  plain,  downright, 
and  outspoken  man,  who  could  be  independent 

'i 

without "  being  offensive.  When  you  wished 
for  his  opinion  you  got  it,  and  not  so ;  over¬ 
whelmed  or  bound  up  in  words  that  you  were 
uncertain  whether  you  had  gotten  an  opinion 
or  not.  He  „cprtainly  was  kind  and  courteous  ; 
he  was  so  by  nature ;  and  these  were  strength¬ 
ened  by  his  convictions. 

As  we  see,  our  friend  labored  in  all  his  voca¬ 
tions  most  abundantly.  His  large  head  and 
broad  shoulders  and  well-developed  frame  af¬ 
forded/,  one  would  say,  a  good  prospect  for  a 
long  life,  and  it  was  true.  But  no  system,  how¬ 
ever  strong,  can  always  bear  an  excessive  strain. 
By  and  by  there  comes  a  break  in  it,  and  it 
came  to  Dr.  Knight,  just  as  it  has  come  to  thou¬ 
sands  of  other  men,  and  will  come  to  thousands 
more  who  are  neglectful  of  themselves.  Strong 
men  admit  this  in  general,  and  say  that  no  one 


\ 


has  a  right  to  so  abuse  his-  own  body,  and  yet 
go  right  on  doing  the  things  they  ought  not, 
hoping,  probably,  that  the -  inexorable  law  will 
not  be  applied  to  themselves.  And  yet  it  must 

\  *  '“N  I  , 

be  confessed  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  excuse 
for  these  persojis,  4hdmn  admiration  of.  their 
powers  we  afe  inclined  to  forgive  or  regard 
lightly  their  special  cases  of  sinning.  With  the 
many  instances  of  slothfulness,  and  selfishness, 
and  twaddling,  and  half-performance  of  duties 

A  "  N 

we  so  often  see,  it -i§  glorious,  some'times,  to  find 
a  man  with  all  his  strength  of  mind  and  body, 
conscious  of  his  ability,  exercising  his  full  pow¬ 
ers,  not  for  himself  alone  but,  as  we  have  said, 
(and*  it  is  especially  true  of  Dr.  Knight,)  for 
.  others. 

During  the  many  years  I  knew  him  I  was 
brought  in  contact  with  him  on  various  occa¬ 
sions  and  in  many  ways.  Sympathizing  with 
him  in  his  work,  and  visiting  not  unfrequently 
at  his  house,  I  came  to  have  a  great  admiration 
for  the  man,  and  love  fori  the  openness  and  sin¬ 
cerity  ,  of  his  life.  His  hospitality  was  un¬ 
bounded,  and  it  seemed  a  great  pleasure  if  he 
could  add  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  friends.  The 


/ 


2i  . 

days  which  he  gave  to  a  number  of  his  brethren 
in  roaming  through  the  surrounding  towns 
were  days  long  to  be  remembered.  To  men 

r 

relieved  for  a  time  from  the  constant  visit  to 
the  sick-room,  they  were  most  delightful,  and 
no  one  seemed  to  enjoy  them  more  than  the 
host.  ,  - 

I  domot  consider  myself  competent  to  judge 

'  N  -  ,  ‘  '  V 

of  him' '  critically  as  a  general  practitioner. 
Though  we, ..were  living  many  miles  apart,  yet 
I  saw,  occasionally,  some  of  his  cases,  and  was 

very  favorably  impressed  with  his  methods  of 

* 

investigation  and  treatment.  He  had  a  way  of 
looking  at  the  essentials  of  symptoms  and  repie- 
dies  which  indicated  his  good  common  sense  \ 
he  was  not  led  astray  by  every  new  theory,  or 
captivated  by  every  newly  vaunted  medical 
agent.  Though  conservative,  yet  he  was  liberal 
enough  to  use  all  means  which  promised  for 
good,  according  to  his  own  convictions. 

How  much  inclination  he  had  for  recreation, 
or  something  outside  of  and  different  from  his 
ordinary  work,  I  know  not ;  a  busy  man  like 
him  takes  his  recreation  in  his  labor,  and  so  en¬ 
joys  his  life  daily.  But  I  have  heard  him  speak 


> 


22 


occasionally  of  his  visits  to  trout  streams  in  his 
neighborhood,  and  have  no  doubt  that  he  en¬ 
joyed  such  short  diversions. 

He  was  a  very  constant  attendant  at  medical 
meetings  and  conventions,  State  and  National, 
and  was  an  industrious  member,  as  I  know ; 
and  he  especially  enjoyed  the  gatherings  of  the 
men  of  his  own  specialty.  He  was  frequently 
present  at  the  meetings  of  the  New  England 
Psychological  Society,  at  Worcester.  Perhaps 
here  was  recreation  for  him,  a  little  outside  of 
and  change  from  his  daily  tread  at  home.  He 
was  very  regular  in  his  attendance  at  the  quar¬ 
terly  meetings  of  the  Board  of  Medical  Visitors 
at  the  Retreat  for  the  Insane,  and  his  counsel 
and  advice  were  of  much  value,  When  the  State 
proposed  to  increase  its  accommodations  for  the 
insane  poor  at  Middletown,  by  new  and  less 
expensive  buildings,  he  gave  the  project  his 
sympathy,  though  it  seemed  to  jeopardize  an 
appropriation  for  his  own  institution  ;  he  was 
ready  and  willing  to  aid  at  all  times  in  measures 
for  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate. 

His  views  on  temperance  were  well  known, 7 
and  he  was  often  enlisted  as  a  speaker.  ,His/' 


\ 

\ 


\ 

T  N 


t- 


23 


brother  says,  “in  1874,  while  speaking  at 
Plantsville  on  the  Physical  Effects  of  Alcohol, 
at  the  invitation  of  a  well-known  friend  of  tem¬ 
perance,  he  was  seized  with  intense  pain  in  the 
head  and  spine,  so  intense  that  while  conclud¬ 
ing  he  could  not  see  the  faces  of  his  audience. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  his  ill  health.  This 
attack  was  the  commencement  of  spinal  irrita¬ 
tion,  and  for  many  months  he  was  an  invalid. 
After  rest,  and  travel  in  this  country  and  in 
Europe,  he  was  mainly  restored  to  practical 
business  ability,  although  his  health  never  fully 
recovered.  Continually  in  pain,  much  of  the 
time  confined  to  his  room,  he  nevertheless  con¬ 
ducted  the  affairs  of  his  institution,  was  at  his 
post  in  the  Sunday-school  whenever  possible, 
and  although  strictly  forbidden  by  his  physi¬ 
cians,  still  spoke  occasionally  in  public  on  sub¬ 
jects  dear  to  his  heart.  The  latter  part  of  De¬ 
cember  last  (1879)  lie  left  his  home  to  spend  the 
winter  in  Florida,  hoping  for  a  comfortable 
season,  but  was  taken  with  severe  symptoms  at 
Fernandina,  and  died  on  the  twenty-second  of 
J  January,  of  rupture  of  the  gall-duct. 
i  Mflrg...-.might  be— oF— him— — doubtless 


1 


24 


much  more  by  his  immediate  neighbors  — in 
his  praise,  and  in  delineation  of  his  character. 
But  enough  has  been  written  to  show  that  he 
was  no  ordinary  man.  I  am  thankful  to  have 
had  him  for  a  friend,  and  as  his  friend  to  write 
these  words  in  remembrance.  The  language  of 
friendship  may  be  the  language  of  eulogy,  but 
here  it  is  properly  bestowed.  He  was  indeed 
a  noble  man,  a  man  whose  neighbors,  even 
to-day,  now  nine  years  after  his  death,  are  re¬ 
garding  him  as  more  noble  than  when  he  went 
in  and  out  among  them.  The  greatness  of  some 
men  goes  before  them,  and  is  forgotten ;  the 
greatness  of  others  comes  after  them,  and  the 
fragrance  is  lasting. 


It  r!' 


f.  ? ,  wmmm 


